Life Continued
by No Green MnMs
Summary: All clues point to the idea that Jane has committed suicide. Maura doesn't believe her friend would do such a thing, and it is up to her to prove it and save her friend... If there's still time.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: Once again, not much thought into these stories. I spring from a thought and off I go! Reviews are appreciated and I will return each I get. Thank you!**

**THIS IS A WORK IN PROGRESS.**** Also, I need some formatting help? Is there a way to indent on here?**

I accept death every day. It does not phase me anymore.

Each day, I start my morning with a corrupted body on a sheet of slate, cold and barren of motion and breath. I remind myself that I chose this profession. I chose to become unattached, the Queen of the Dead, as they call me.

There was one death I could not accept.

_Maura,_

_ Hi. I realize this may come as a surprise to you, but I'm ending my life._

_Everybody won't be expecting this, I'm sure. I just want you to know that I _

_ Love you. You are my world. I just realized I cannot be happy, even with you._

_ Please understand. You did nothing to cause my suicide. I'm going to open_

_ My wrists on the Fairfield's boat in the ocean. It's the only boat I know._

_ Eventually, I'll throw myself overboard when I'm weak. Do not look for me._

_I love you so much,_

_Jane._

I did not accept my own scream when I found the letter on my dining room table, perched like a cobra to sqeeze the life from me.

A frenzy of policemen and medical workers surrounded me when I made that crumbling call to Frost, who was at my side with the speed of a lightning bug. They took my letter from me. I knew they would. I have done this dance, just not this side of the steps. I made a copy, and kept it snug in my bra, to my chest. To my heart. I knew Frost did not feel the edges poking his chest as he held me tightly to him, cooing me that all would be okay. I felt myself too cracked and hurt to fight affection. Without Jane, I was completely alone. No family, no friends. She was all I had.

I felt abandoned, in a state of shock. It was like my insides had been ripped out of me, leaving me hollow. I couldn't understand how the woman I not so secretly adored could betray me by removing herself from my life. It was selfish, but all I could think of was me and Jane. I kept repeating, How could she do this to _me_? Jane was my life support, and I was gasping for air.

Frost had stayed with me through the next few hours, when Korsak entered my apartment. My eyes looked to his blue occulus for the answer, but I could already tell what it was. Tears continued to rush from my eyes with new vigor before he even spoke.

"The Fairfields reported their boat missing at 4 pm. After you called the police, we found it. Twenty miles into the Atlantic, covered in blood. Type O. Like Jane. I'm sorry, Dr. Isles."

I am not good with people. At least, not live ones. I knew Frost would fold to my will and leave when I asked enough. He has a metaphorical scoliosis; he will bend. I thought I needed to be alone, to try and understand why my friend would commit suicide in a time where I thought she seemed so happy. Just last night, I felt her warm body beside me at another one of our unplanned sleepovers. I nuzzled her neck, the only person I was comfortable releasing admiration for. Jane dropped a strong arm around me, whispering in her husky voice, "We should do this more often."

I hardly realized I had gotten into my car, but I also didn't realize I had been sobbing the entire day. My makeup had slid down my face with my avalanche of emotions, released from their locks. Naturally I blamed myself. I was the one Jane spent the most time with. Clearly, something I said must have upset her. Made her feel not good enough. I spent hours and hours of each day staring into those brooding eyes, thinking she was the most stunning woman on the planet. I never vocalized this. I don't know how. I thought she knew. I thought wrong.

When my car arrived in front of Jane's apartment, I was merely a passenger. I stepped into the familiar living room, crashing onto the couch that still lingered with her scent. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't acknowledge that this was the last place on earth that held my Jane's smell. I forced myself to walk around the apartment, the funeral march.

I do not rely on intuition. Jane has always pestered me about that.

However, I think she would be proud at this moment.

As I scanned the apartment for any life left in Jane, I surprisingly found it. There was a lot of life here. I looked at her calendar, and I saw dates for the next week and beyond. Doctors appointments, meetings, waiting for purchased items to arrive. Dinners with me. When I made my way to her kitchen table, I found bills separated. Some were paid, to be mailed. Others had not been paid yet, but there were post it notes to remind her. Most of all, I heard her voice say to me, "We should do this more often".

It didn't make sense to me. I completely detest when I cannot make sense of something, but this was beginning to look like an unsolved puzzle to me. Why would someone who wanted to die so badly give no warning signs, and leave evidence of a life continued?

I did not, and could not, accept that Jane had let the ocean take her in a wave of fate and only leave me a crumpled piece of paper behind.

That's not my Jane.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: So a lot of people seemed upset with Chapter 1 xD. I would be too. Jane really doesn't seem like the type to commit suicide, does she? Thus, read on...**

The only person I could trust now was Barry Frost. He, too, wasn't allowed to work this case because of his close relationship with Jane. He was with me when Korsak confirmed the bloody boat, and he was with me when I got a phone call saying they had searched all night, and had not found Jane's body. I found his presence dependable in this apocalyptic situation, and I felt languid enough to invite him to Jane's. Since I found what I believed was evidence of a life continued, I couldn't exhale what I considered foolish thoughts from my head, and wanted to at least discuss them with another person before I banished them.

"Barry," I sat with him in my dining room, both of us sipping warm cups of tea. I had never called him by his first name, and before tonight, I was never alone with him. Then again, this was a night of many firsts for me. "This may sound like I'm crazy. Like I'm in denial. But I just don't get it. I don't see Jane... killing herself."

Frost looked at me with those amber eyes and I immediately relaxed. I could tell from his regio facialis that he agreed with me, and had been waiting to release a similar statement to anyone willing to listen. He, too, had been plagued by the venom of doubt. "I can't see it either. She never quit anything. I don't see a reason for her to kill herself. I hate to say it, though, but that is her handwriting. We even analyzed it in the lab, it's hers. It's her blood, too. There's even a receipt on her dresser for razors. Only razors."

"I know," I admitted, looking to the chamomile and squeezing my eyes shut. "I never knew how to be a proper friend. I just thought Jane knew that. I love her, but I never said it. I know she said it wasn't a factor in her suicide, but... I feel responsible."

"Maura," Barry shook his head, leaning in toward me with a determination I had never seen in him. "You're Jane's best friend. Come on, you two are the perfect social misfits. You don't have to use words to let her know you care. I can see it from my desk, everyday. Believe me, it was a distraction. You two are the worst flirts." he grinned. His use of the present tense had not gone unnoticed.

I wondered if it would be a waste of my breath to deny ever having romantic feelings toward Jane. When I saw Frost smiling at me, I knew it was. I suppose my desire is not as invisible as I hoped it would be. Then, if Frost could see it, why couldn't Jane? I sighed, but it was hard not to smile when Frost was looking so eagerly at me.

"I'm not good at flirting. In any case... do you think it's at all possible that this... isn't a suicide?" I was afraid to hear my voice say it. I thought it sounded ridiculous, and as a doctor, I should know better. Facts were facts, and handwriting and blood were reliable.

Yet, they could also be manipulated.

My instincts sensed a lack of Jane, and were beginning to kick in.

"Very possible," Frost admitted.

I removed the copied letter from my breast, placing it between us. We both stared it at the crumpled looseleaf with a loss of words before Frost's hand grabbed my wrist with reflexes like a spider.

"Hi, Everybody, Love, Please, My, Eventually."

I stared at Frost as if he were speaking one of the few foreign languages I do not understand. "Swahili?" I propose.

Frost near smiles, shaking his head. "Dr. Isles, look at the letter. Look at only the first letter of every sentence. H-E-L-P-M-E. Help me."

I gasped and our eyes met. I felt his fingers on my wrist, electricity burning through his cells. This was it. This was my proof. I knew something was wrong with the letter. Although it was in Jane's near unreadable handwriting, the sentence structure did not appear to be concise with other things Jane had written. That's why I couldn't hear her voice flowing through it. That's why when I read it, I only heard my chocked sobs. I now saw that it was because she was trying to send me a secret message.

"Just because the blood is type O, doesn't mean it's Jane's." It was a thought lingering through my head as soon as Frost said it. It was only now that I felt brave enough to conquer my fear of the uncertain, of the big "what if". What if the blood wasn't Jane's? Very well, it could have been hers, but that didn't mean she was dead.

Yet...

I tried to fight the thought as Frost made another point. "Unless you can tell me otherwise, I don't see the connection to Jane and the Fairfield family, aside from you. Why would she take their boat? If she was going to take a boat, I feel like she'd just steal one. Aside from that... Can Jane even drive a boat to go out twenty miles? That's pretty far. We both saw her that day, when we were actually on the Fairfield boat. She was no mermaid, I'll tell ya that."

I smiled at Frost's light joke. He was right. Jane looked wobbly and shaky in the water. I saw no reason for her to want to end her life in a place where she felt no control. Jane and I had never spoke of suicide, but I was aware that she held no strong connections to the sea. "Do you think the Fairfields are behind this? Or someone trying to frame them?"

"No harm in finding out."

**Authors Note: Gotcha? xD**


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: I was ready to abandon ship on this one. I am not a huge fan of the way it turned out. I think I may re-do it in the third person, but we'll see. Perhaps you will think differently. In any case, the main reason I'm continuing is because the **Epilogue is awesome** and unfinished business drives me nuts! Thanks for reading, guys.**

I had not been to the Fairfield's home since Garrett's arrest last summer. When the body of his older brother, Adam, had been discovered in the harbor, it was the fuel to ignite the dynamite in Boston because of how prestigious the Fairfield family is. My feelings for Garrett have near evaporated since. I no longer feel warmly toward him, and it is safe to say that his family wasn't impressed with me when I ruled homicide in Adam's case... but Jane was. That was all I needed.

I rang the bell to the lavish Fairfield estate with Frost behind me. Truthfully, I didn't know what to expect. Allegedly, my best friend had just stolen their boat and bled nearly to death on it. I had questions concerning just how she had access to their private boat, but more importantly, why theirs? Like Frost said, the link between them was me.

Their butler, Reginald, had always been kind to me. Even after I declared homicide on the body and triggered Garrett's arrest, the butler had not been standoffish toward me as the rest of the family. He did not need to ask who I was, and probably recognized Frost from the last investigation.

Surprisingly, Reginald did not greet us at the door. No one did.

Frost ushered me inside, shutting the door quietly behind us.

"Reginald?" I called out, unsure.

"This way!"

His voice returned from two rooms to the left, which I knew was the study. I motioned for Frost to follow me toward a room I knew to be elegantly decorated with a red Russian rug and enough bookshelves to keep a librarian occupied for their lifetime.

When I arrived into that room, I felt my life shatter before me.

Sitting in front of those ornate bookshelves sat Garrett himself, glaring at me with heated blue eyes. "Maura Isles," he acknowleged my presence, his hands clasped over his lap. I was shocked to find him out of jail, at home. "I knew you'd find me. Us."

Us?

My eyes were pulled to the red Russian rug I had always adored, to find the _woman_ I had always adored. Jane's body was crumpled on the floor, in a vulnerability I had never seen and even after hearing of her suicide, never expected. On one hand, I was ecstatic to find that she hadn't killed herself after all. My eyes were drawn to her wrists, pure and clean. I had learned to trust my instincts, to go against fact to find the truth. In the bottom of my heart, I knew Jane could never betray me by taking her own life. I just needed to humble the paralysis of my need to rely on cold facts, and I was able to.

Although her wrists were in mint condition, she was coated in blood elsewhere. I saw it running from her forehead, letting me to believe the laceration was somewhat recent. At least within the last hour. Her skin was pale, the pallor reaching far enough to blend with the abrasion to her neck. The basin of blood beneath her made me drop to my knees, crippled by my tears yet again. Unlike Jane, I've never been ashamed of lacrimial fluid.

I moved to place my hand on Jane's chest to check for breathing, but Garrett's shoe arrived between us and shook me off of her, throwing me back with enough vigor to remove me a few feet from Jane.

"You set this up!" Frost accused from behind me, removing his gun from his holster and pointing it straight at Garrett. "Make one wrong move and not only will I throw your ass back in jail but I'll shoot. Hands up." I had never seen him so concentrated or furious. He was like a hurricane. I suppose the relationship between partners extends beyond the thin blue line. I knew he cared about Jane, and it was what we had in common; what brought us here.

Garrett sighed, as if bored. "I didn't realize you would bring company, Maura."

As soon as Garrett pronounced the word "company", I heard Frost yelp in pain from behind me. My judgement of people will be forever scarred, as Reginald, the butler I perceived to be kind, held a taser to Barry. His body was thrown against Jane's, landing on his stomach, while she was on her side, facing him.

"Why did you do this?" I closed my eyes tightly, unsure if I could ever cleanse my ears of Barry's shriek.

"I wanted to contact you, Maura. I wanted to let you know I was out of jail, and thank you so generously for your helping me to get there." Garrett had not moved from the chair, or even flinched, until that moment. He stepped forward, toward me, and I could see the change jail had made in him. I'm not sure how long he had been out for, but I was sure it was under the time he was charged. His hair had been cut to a short trim, and his eyes had a wild look that I'm not sure could ever be expelled.

"Now you have," came my riposte, curtly. I stood my ground, unsure what else I could do. I was cornered. My best bet was to stall, and figure out answers I was desperately seeking in the mean time. "Why did you hurt Jane?"

"It was unintentional. I actually planned to come into your lab, take you here, and do whatever I desired," he smirked, and I could see he was being honest. The symmetry was impeccable. "Jane saw me coming into your lab. You weren't there. She caught me illegally in your lab, and as I hurt her, I decided it would be more fun to emotionally wreck you first."

"You are fucking sick, Garrett." I couldn't believe my own mouth had uttered those words. I can't remember the last time I cursed, but my blood was on fire. Jane was hurt because of me and I was ready to tear into my ex-lover with my bare teeth.

"Funny, because fucking is exactly what I prepared to do." Garrett came toward me, his own weapon in his hand. I could not see what it was, but Garrett was so close to me that I could smell his breath, feel his warm, bloodstained hand on my waist. Once again, I shut my eyes, awaiting the moment for the weapon to either electrify me, halting my body, or stab me so painfully that I socummed to Garrett's will.

Then I remembered I was in the presence of my hero.

As Garrett's hand reached my side, he suddenly fell into me. I leaped to the side when he collapsed onto the floor, a crimson tide atomizing from two wounds in his back. The gunshot sounds had rippled through my body as much as the bullets had ripped through Garrett's. I turned to the source and found Jane still holding Frost's gun, one arm outstretched while the other struggled to keep her balance.

Our eyes met and I felt a wave of relief hit me so hard that I too, collapsed as a result of that bullet. I dropped to my knees beside Jane, my hands on her warm face. "I-I was so worried about you. I thought you were dead, Jane. I thought you left me."

Jane's lips were moving, but no sounds were coming out. It took her a great effort to strain the single word that meant most to me.

"Never."

I watched her eyes gradually flutter closed. My fear was that I would never see them open again.

I am named "Queen of the Dead" for a reason. I was kneeling in a pile of three bodies. One, dead. Two, injured, perhaps critically. I am used to the dead, and I am used to bodies.

I just never felt the name fit until now and it crashed over me like a whirlpool.

**A/N: There's a bit of a sea motif goin' on here. I figure it's sort of cause and effect? If Jane had died by throwing herself into the ocean, Maura felt a "tide" of powerful emotions. Like Jane, the sea is both beautiful and dangerous. Blah blah blah. ;)**


	4. Epilogue

**Authors Note; Thank you very much for reading. I'm not sure where I was going with this fic after Chapter 2. Before I started, I actually only had Chapter 2 and a bit of the epilogue in my mind. Filling in the gaps was tough. I hope I did a sufficient job, and I truly appreciate reviews and your time. I'll return all reviews!**

On the drive home from the hospital, it was decided I would stay with Jane overnight until I decided she was healthy enough. I was in shock from the events that had just pursued, and tight lipped in the passanger's seat. Jane had insisted on driving, acting in the opposite of me and her mouth running faster than I had ever seen it. I watched her carefully, noticing she was still bleeding from a laceration to the forehead. I'm not sure letting her drive was a good decision, but her tongue was moving so rapidly I could barely get a word in. If I had a word to give.

"I can't believe you think I would kill myself like that. That's ridiculous, Maura! First of all, who the hell plans a suicide like that? Writes a letter, slits their wrists and then chucks themselves over board? How in the world do you have the strength to throw yourself over? Why not just do that in the first place?" Jane was ranting, her hand curving the wheel. We spent the night in the hospital, where Jane's abrasions were cared for and we decided to take her painkillers at home. While at the hospital, we had not spoken to each other, but our eyes were locked, transferring the emotions of pure worry.

I was worried for Jane's health, but I saw it creeping back into her. I was also worried for myself, because I knew with every word Jane spoke, I came closer to vomiting how scared her possible death made me, and what that meant for our relationship.

When I didn't respond, Jane looked over at me, her expressive eyes sizing me up. "I own a gun. If I wanted to kill myself, I would've just eaten it."

"Jane!"

"What?" she asked. I couldn't helping thinking she was adorable when she tried to argue with me. I tried my best to hide a smile, looking out the window of the car. Jane can be deceptively complex, but I understood her subtext. The whole point of her argument was not that the whole suicide seemed farfetched, although it was. What Jane was really trying to say to me was exactly what she whispered on the floor of the Farifield mansion.

She would never leave me.

I tuned back in to Jane's rant. "I can't believe it took you that long to figure out the message in the letter. Who starts off a suicide letter with 'Hi'? What kind of moronic disease do you think I have that I would actually write such a terrible letter?" she rolled her eyes. I started to laugh, and soon her laughter was chiming in with mine.

"In the letter, you said that you loved me." I pointed out to her, finally averting my gaze to my beautiful, wounded companion.

Jane visibly recoiled. Her voice became more gentle as she whispered, "Well. That part was true. I didn't know if he was really going to kill me, so. I thought I'd get out what I can while still getting the secret message in there." As it turns out, Garrett had taken Jane from my lab and tasered her. He forced her to write a suicide letter when she woke, wanting to put me through emotional torture so that I would be a more vulnerable target. I shudder to think of what may have happened if Frost and I had not looked at the note more carefully.

"I love you too, Jane. In fact, I think I might love you more." I was not trying to play a lover's game, the joke where the two lovers try and "out love" one another. I cannot tell a lie, honesty just flows from me.

This ruffled Jane, I could tell. She opened the door to her apartment for me, letting me walk in further before she opened her mouth to speak again. "I'm not so sure about that." she cleared her throat, locking all three of her locks on the door. I considered what that meant. Perhaps Jane had feelings to match mine.

I stood in Jane's living room, my hands clasped in front of me as I stargazed out of her window. I watched my best friend walk past me toward her bedroom, giving me a backward glance that told me to follow. Before I did, I took a moment to absorb the day. I stood in this very spot just hours ago, living out a nightmare. My whole world crashed around me, yet, it was all somehow reconstructed, despite a shaky foundation. I felt compelled to do something outlandish to celebrate my blessings. Kiss Jane, tell her how much I adore her. Tell Jane that I don't just love her, but I'm actually _in _love with her. Call Frost to make sure he's alright and gush out how I appreciated his help. Step on Garrett's grave, feel the solid earth underneath my feet.

There is so much I can do to overcompensate for the tragedies in life, but it is the normalcy that I crave. For that reason, I kick off my heels and follow Jane into bed, where she is already cocooned under the blankets. I comfortably envelope myself beside her, cooing into her ear that I'm so glad she's safe. They are lost words, as Jane is already enfolded into a deep sleep.

Tomorrow, I will carve dead bodies and tell their stories. I will check on Jane and spend the night again. The following day, I will carve dead bodies and tell their stories. Jane will return to work, and business will be as usual.

It is only in normalcy that I feel safe, because there is nothing sweeter than a steady life continued.


End file.
